A Life of a Clone
by SereneAngelWriter
Summary: (Hiatus) You might be wondering who I am. No, I am not Maxwell, the legendary Scribblenaut; I am Doppelganger, a clone left in the shadows. You can say a whole bunch of crap about me, but I want you to know my story of my orgins and what has been left of me. I want you to know why I was searching for a friend. So what are you standing for? Just read my story, or leave it here.
1. How I was Created

You're reading my story? I thought you wouldn't be interested; I mean, who'd want to listen to the story about the shadow of a hero? Well, I guess I'll start with how I was created. Let me be honest, I can't exactly remember what it's like to be created, but here's how I remembered it:

I opened my eyes, to see blurry images all over the place; it was dark, too dark for me to recognize the objects around me. They slowly connect together, to form something so I can see, as if the lights slowly turned on. The first things I saw was a computer, that had some sort of person that had clothing that was considered casual, but when you look at what he was wearing on his head, you'd consider it ridiculous. "Ah, you're finally awake," someone said.

I was startled, and I tried to sit up to see who it was, but I was forced to stop after trying. I looked down to see that I was on a table, strapped with leather that each had a metal buckle. I could only turn my head at an angle, to see a man dressed in fine clothing; he had raven-black hair that brushed against his ears, and wrinkles that indicated how many years he lived. "You may not feel comfortable around me," he said, "But I must inform you that I am not interested in hurting you, since you've just came into the world for the first time."

He unstrapped the leather that was wrapped around me, and I could feel my body being more relaxed. "I am your creator," he said, "My name is Professor Hudson, but you can call me Professor. You may not be familiar with walking or your own appearance, but I'll guide you through before you can officially be a Scribblenaut."

At that time, I didn't even know what a Scribblenaut was, and I felt a little uncertain, because who wouldn't? When I tried to move, I only lifted my arm a few centimeters off the table. The professor walked out of the room and shut the door before I could even try to walk.

When I figured out how to move, I slowly moved myself down to the ground; my legs were weak to carry me up, so I ended up falling multiple times on my face. Boy, did it hurt.

I looked at the door knob that was attached to another door. I stared at it, trying to remember what the professor did when he tried to open the door himself. I slowly lifted my hand towards the door knob grasped it. I turned my hand and walked forward, hitting my head against the wooden door in the process.

I rubbed my head to where it hurts most; when I was created, you'd probably would've called me the dumbest creature alive. I held the door knob again, but this time I tightened my grip. When I attempted to open it again, it worked! I felt my mouth forming something, and I felt a little prideful for some reason.

On the other side of the door was a surprise; it reflected something that had many objects in it. This time, I saw the person again, except they were wearing different clothes this time. _'This person must not have a unique sense of style,'_ I thought.

Just then, I heard the door open once again. "You figured out how to open a door," said a familiar voice, "That is impressive for a prototype like you. I realize you figured out what a mirror and a reflection is; we might be at a good start for your development."

I turned around to notice the professor, smiling at me; he was holding something behind his back, and I didn't know what it was. "That person you see over there," he said, pointing to the person in the 'mirror', "Is you. You are the first clone of Maxwell, the legendary Scribblenaut."

I felt my eyes widen with shock; that person was me!? I couldn't believe I was nothing but a mere clone of a good hero, and it made me feel a little heartbroken to know that I was just a copy. Either way, I was curious about the object behind his back. I couldn't really talk, and I didn't know how; I held out my hands, then pointed to one of them. "Ah, you're wondering about what I have?" he asked.

I nodded, not knowing what was the correct response for yes. He revealed to me a green notebook, with a golden star with five dots on each inward angle. "This is your notebook," he said, "A Scribblenaut must have one at all cost, to help people who are in need. This notebook creates the objects you want, as long as you write the words; you may also add an adjective that you want."

My hands reached out to take the notebook away from his hands. He gave it to me, and a took it away and held it to my chest, as if I was a child cherishing a toy and imagining it was my lifelong friend. He chuckled and held my hand. "Come, little one," he said, "Let's take you home, so you can rest up for the night."

His hand held mine very firm, as if he was scared of losing me. We both walked out of the room together, and he somehow managed to turn off the lights by himself. For some reason, I felt that I will be safe from here on out.

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 **Author's Note: Yay, finally! I published my first story on ! What do you guys think? Please give me some gentle, yet thorough criticism since I get really nervous when I get a negative look among others.**


	2. Doppelganger

After he decided to take me in, he treated me very well. He cared for me, educated me, praised me, and he even bought me stuff for my own bedroom! Professor Hudson was someone that I really cared for, like a... What was that word again? You know, the person that Maxwell has and I don't?

Oh right, he was like a _father_ to me. I thought I could really trust him, that is until he broke my faith towards him. It was a year after my creation and I could already speak; a lot of people said how foolish he was to create me, to try to replace Maxwell if the hero was deceased.

Hudson sat in his chair with a coffee mug, and continued doing his research that was probably about my behavior and what not. He was noticeably tired, probably about the research and the comments he received from his fellow peers. During his research, I walked in as a happy child, until I saw his somber expression. At that time, I was innocent, and I never really understood what was going on; still, I foolishly looked up to him at a time where I shouldn't. "Professor," I said, "Are you alright?"

I actually startled him, and he flinched when I first spoke. When he turned around to see me, he sighed and rubbed his eyes with his hand. "How many times have I told you not to come here when I'm researching?" he said.

Before I was allowed to explore the house to get a better understanding, he had some rules; I couldn't really remember all of them, but this was the first one: "Never go into the lab to disturb me. You might make me lose my concentration on significant research for others."

My eyes looked at his tired face and that frown that used to be a smile that made me feel safe; I was too naive to notice the changes in the professor, and it would've been smart for me to try to realize something is wrong. "I'm sorry sir," I said, remembering the manners he taught me, "I was wondering what's wrong; you haven't eaten for a day, and you've been in the lab for as long as I can remember. Is it about me? Did I do something wrong?"

He sighed and patted my head, making me feel that he was going to be alright. "No, don't worry," he said, "This isn't about you, and I'm completely fine." He paused for a brief second. "Let's go into the backyard; I think it's finally time to start your Scribblenaut training."

You would've seen the look on my face if you were born in that timeline; I was ecstatic, and I was waiting for this day my whole childhood. I felt like I was about to burst into fireworks. I decided to reach to the backyard first before he did.

When we arrived, I had my notebook and I was energetic as usual; the professor was sluggish, and it took him 15 seconds to arrive. Maybe I thought he was because I was eager to start training.

We started out with a solving situation; he placed a toy kitten in a tree that was considered climbable. "Alright," he said, "You must create something that will help you get to the kitten. Maxwell has used a ladder before, so try to make something that seems better than what he did."

His tone sounded a little desperate at the end, but I was too naive to notice it; I was too naive to understand anything, because he didn't fully educate me. I knew nothing about the kitten's wants, and a ladder was all I could think of. When I went up the tree, I started climbing up and grabbed the kitten from the tree. "No, no, no!" he shouted, "That's not what I told you to do! I said create an object, not climb the tree and solve it yourself! Let's try a different task."

He went to a different area of the backyard. I stared at the kitten that I was still holding. _'Why is he so mad at me?'_ I thought, _'I didn't know what to do. And wasn't it okay to try to solve it without the notebook?'_

I dropped the toy kitten, and followed him for my next stage of Scribblenaut learning. He muttered something under his breath that I couldn't hear, but I didn't think it was going to be important. He pointed at a sign that says, "Create an object, and try to make it look beyond magnificent."

So, I did, and of course, I used my notebook. I couldn't really think of a good object, so I decided to choose a terrible one and tried to make it better. I wrote 'big, sparkling, winged, blue pig', and the pig that I imagined appeared in front of me. "What was that?" the professor asked, sounding irritated.

I turned around and noticed that he wasn't pleased, and I thought he would be prideful in my creation since I actually used my notebook this time and he still hasn't taught me any better adjectives. "Maxwell already created a pig like this," he said, "And it won on some pet competition that I really don't care about. I want you to dispose of this creature immediately. I do not wish to take care of another pet like you."

This was something easy to do for Scribblenauts, but here's the problem; I never knew how to properly dispose of my creations. In the first few months, the professor would start out with something easy and thoroughly explain what I need to do. But later on in the years, he rushed through things that he should've taught me, and sometimes he never remembered to review them with me. I panicked, not knowing what to do with the giant pig, so I created a lasso and carried it to another place.

This was something I regretted to do when I tried to impress him; I got slapped across the face for that. "Foolish prototype!" he shouted, with his face scarlet in rage, "I gave you simple instructions on what to do, and this is what you decide?"

I stared at the ground, with my hand covering the cheek that had been abused. "No more training for today," he said, "We're going inside, and this time you will study for what you've failed."

He went back inside, without looking at my face; he was clearly disappointed in me, and I felt very ashamed of myself. Every day, I was treated with pain, but it gets worse each time I failed. When he got tired of slapping me, he kicked me. After that, it was whips, then selling my prized possessions, and then I was threatened to be erased. One day, he said this to me when I tried to show all of my strength in my ability: "You know what? You're not worthy of being the next Maxwell. I regretted having you in the world: you should be called, Doppelganger, since you're nothing more than a clone."

I never knew what it felt like to be betrayed and heartbroken by someone you truly appreciate the most. After that, I could no longer understand the true meaning of love, happiness, or life. At that time, I just wanted to **die**.

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 **Author's Note: Hey guys! I'm back with another chapter of this story! I'm sorry if it's not what you wanted since it has some child abuse and it's a little tragic, but I needed this backstory to make this story work properly. Again, please give me some gentle criticism, or an encouraging comment.**


	3. Free and Happy

You guys are still reading my story? Ugh, you really want to know what happened to me, don't you? Well, I guess I can't blame some inquisitive readers, so I'll tell you what happened after what the professor did to me.

Abuse can really change someone, and I'm pretty sure you knew that; I was no longer the happy child I used to be, instead I was apathetic. Professor Hudson was going to give me one final chance to prove to him that I was worthy of being a Scribblenaut. "You mustn't fail this test," he said, very sternly. The kindness that used to linger around him was gone. "This requires all the etiquette a Scribblenaut needs. If you do not succeed, you will finally be erased from existence. Do you understand?"

I nodded, no longer caring if I was about to die; I didn't deserve to live, so why should I care? It was during the night when he told me about this, so he went to his room to rest up. I went to my nightstand, to pick up the notebook that lied in the moonlight. I stared at my past notebooks, the ones that had its pages wasted up from the training that I constantly had for five years.

I no longer cared about anything Scribblenaut related, that is until I found something interesting by myself. When I opened my current notebook, I saw a tab that had the label, 'Spectator Mode.'

 _'_ I wasn't interested at first, but when I tapped the tab with my pencil, it showed up a moving drawing of the professor's room; the drawing was simplistic, but it literally moved, as if I was watching something through a security camera.

I was curious, just as curious as you guys right now. I saw a simple drawing of a Professor Hudson, and z's came out of his face, indicating he was asleep. When I tapped on the professor, I saw the words "Add Adjective" on one button. I tapped on the button, I was being allowed to write one word to add towards the professor.

At first, I thought I should write some word that'll humiliate him, probably enough for him to repay me for all the abuse he caused. But then, I thought about the word 'dead.' _'The professor said it was an adjective, right?'_ I thought, wondering if I should test it.

I wrote the word down in the box and all of the sudden, the z's disappeared in the drawing. When I looked at the professor, he was so still, until he turned into a puff of smoke and was dispelled from existence.

I wasn't sure if this drawing was being completely stupid, so I checked the professor's room to see if he was still alive. When I arrived, he was gone. He was gone.

Suddenly, I felt my face smiling, for the first time for five years. I knew why I was smiling, and I felt so happy, because I was free and happy. Free from all of that abuse. Free from all the pressure of impressing someone. Free from constant all of that excessive training.

Free from him.

I started laughing, and then I realize I could do whatever I want. "Where's your whip, professor!?" I mocked, knowing that he's gone, "Cause you're not going to use it against me! Maybe you're working for god, and you can't hear me; that is if you're even in heaven!"

I then decided that I no longer wanted to live in this house, even after he died; seriously, wouldn't you do the same thing if that crazy professor abused you? Exactly, I didn't want to remember all of the times that he wasted me.

I grabbed the Scribblenaut's guidebook that was laying on his desk, and I placed it inside my bookbag. Then, I created a match, and threw it into the professor's room. I made a mad dash to the backdoor when it started to ignite.

I realize someone might recognize me immediately if I didn't hide my identity, and they will definitely throw me in jail if they found out I started this fire and murdered Professor Hudson. So, I created a cloak, and wore it around town, hoping that no one would recognize me.

They didn't, cause some people were still asleep; the ones who were awake were only staring at the burning house that was lit to flames. I smiled secretly to myself, and ran as far as I could, away from the chaotic neighborhood my creator lived in. I opened the guidebook to see what I needed. "Housing," it first said, and I didn't know why it was a chapter, "Every house that you create will always have at least one tenant. Therefore, you must find your own house to live in."

God dammit, I was going to create a house of my own; that's what I thought of at that moment. That is, until I saw something on a nearby tree; I got a closer look at it, and I saw a small door that matches the pattern and color of the bark. When I went inside, it was wooden and it was small. _'I can't believe I went from a lab to a tree home,_ _'_ I thought, _'Well, it's better than nothing. Besides, it'll hide me nicely from those scientists and crazy people.'_

I created a bed for myself to stay, and a box for storage. I decided to rest up for the night, to prepare for some survival skills that I might do. I placed the guidebook on the ground, and slip into the covers. _'Goodbye professor,'_ I thought, _'Hello freedom!'_

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 **Author's Note: Welcome back for another chapter of this story! I'm sorry that I added some character death, but Doppelganger should be considered emotionally unstable from all that abuse. Anyway, please give me some support or any help that makes this story better. Thank you for reading!**


	4. Author's Note 1

**Hey guys, it's me, the author. I just wanted to say, thank you for those that have been supporting this story. Unfortunately, I'm not currently interested in this anymore, but I will get back on this eventually. So this story is officially on hiatus.**

 **While you're waiting, you can read some of my other stories while I'm making new ones. I hope everyone can understand why I'm doing this.**


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